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THE HIDDEN CABIN 



THE 

Hidden Cabin 

A PATHETIC STORY 

IN CONDENSED 
FORM 



BY 

DAVID W. EDWARDS 

AUTHOR OF "billy BIRDSALL," 

"up the grade," etc. 



COVER DESIGN, ZOLA AND ZIMBO 
BY DRURY VICTOR HAIGHT 



LOS ANGELES 

COMMERCIAL PRINTING HOUSE 

PUBLISHERS 

1909 






Copyright, 1909 

BY 

David W. Edwards 

all rights 
reserved 



01. a ^t^p^irjf^, 
' ' - -> xj' tO' .3 (J 



THE STORY. 

The Legend of Palomar. 
The Hidden Cabin. 
Cedric Vaughn. 
Homer Lee. 
Lola Vail. 
The Voyage. 
The Mines. 
Ben Rubideaux. 
The Wedding. 
The Mystic Token. 
The Stolen Child. 
The Wanderers. 
In the Mountains. 

*'Peg Leg," the Miner. 

Gilbert. 

Zola and Zimbo. 

Gilbert's Journey. 

Conclusion. 



AUTHOR'S NOTE 

Palomar Mountain is one of the 
grandest natural attractions of Southern 
California. It is more than a mile in 
height. From its lofty "look-outs" 
the beautiful bay of San Diego may 
be descried, and also the distant 
islands of Santa Catalina and San 
Clemente. It abounds with gushing 
springs, richly timbered table-lands, 
deep, rocky canyons, and rugged peaks. 
It is one of the favorite resorts of the 
writer, who has spent many pleasant 
hours in camp near the mysterious 
hidden cabin above the 'snow white 
clouds," in company with his friend, 
the Rev. John L. Pitner, D. D., to 
whom these lines are inscribed. 

BIMINI SPRINGS D. W. E. 

LOS ANGELES, CAL. 




PALOMAR. 

MILE above the ocean's level brim 
Tow'rs Palomar, the monarch of the range. 
Along its western base are frostless hills 
With verdure crowned^ and valleys green, where bloom 
And fruitage fill the air with sweet perfume. 
Green pastures, rich with herbage and bright flowers, 
Bedeck the eastern slopes which fall away 
A lone and weary desert land to meet; 
To meet a lone and weary desert land — 
A rich and rocky land where mines of wealth 
Have slumbered long beneath its arid wastes. 
So stands in majesty this mountain grand 
Between the desert and the western sea. 
From ocean's heaving breast, she upward sent 
A humid vapor, in the skies to meet 
And woo the softer breezes that ascend 
From off the heated earth at eventide. 
A gentle zephyr was at play among 
The cacti beds and yuccas tall, that lift 
Their spiny leaves and tufted fronds above 
The burning sands ; she softly breathed a sigh, 

11 



And floating upward in the milky way 
She met and wed the vapor from the sea; 
For each had found a true affinity. 
The moon withdrew and hid her face behind 
The distant isles; and from the blushing east 
A ray of sunlight came and kissed the bride. 

Together in the skies, these twain have wrought 
A mantle, soft as down, of spotless white; 
And often as the evening twilight falls, 
Or dewy morning sheds her purple tints, 
They come and spread it over Palomar. 
Thus runs the legend which has oft been told ; 
And which the Indian maiden whispers low 
When snow white cloucis hang over Palomar. 

THE HIDDEN CABIN. 

The rugged sides of Palomar are deep 
With canyons cleft, where raging floods have made 
Their downward path and held their course unchained. 
Beyond the eagle's nest and rocky crag. 
Where giant arborvitaes throw their plumes 
Athwart the sky; and crystal waters cold 

12 



And pure, come sparkling from a mountain spring; 

By bending boughs and tangled vines shut out 

From view, the hidden cabin stood ; and there 

Today it stands, and there has stood unkept, 

In mystery wrapped, a hundred years or more 

Since its last tenant left it there alone. 

It stands where it was builded long ago; 

Yet not the same as in the days of old, 

For long disuse and winters' storms and rain 

Have left their mark ; but still enough remains 

To show that in the hands of him who built 

No joiner's tools were held; divested of 

All metals with sharp edge save only axe 

And auger, which he plied with master hand 

To hew the timbers smooth, and cut and fit 

The doors and frames; and fitting, through these sent 

The auger's teeth to clear the way for pins 

Of wood with which he made all fast and strong. 

A strange, pathetic story centers round 
This lonely spot; the story of a true 
And faithful soul who counted life best spent 
By those who strive to crucify the flesh. 
And emulate — as best poor mortal may — 

13 



The life of Him who lived and died for love ; 
For love of those who loved and hated Him. 



CEDRIC VAUGHN. 

Classmates were Cedric Vaughn and Homer Lee. 
Cedric from the southland came, and in his 
Veins there flowed — tho' mixed with Anglo-Saxon — 
A trace of Montezuma blood, the same 
As that of those who met with sharpened steel 
The hosts of Cortez on the bloody plains 
Of Otumba. In the lightsome morning 
Of his happy youth, he saw that twain who 
Gave him life and love, with all his kindred, 
By savage hands struck do<wn! struck down and flung 
Amid the blazing ruins of their home. 
With superhuman strength he stood beside 
His father 'till he fell ; and then fought on 
Like wounded tiger, grimly courting death. 

Filled with pagan superstition, that wild 
Robber chief — when he saw brave Cedric's blade 
Cleave skull and flesh, and break like slender reeds 
The spears of those who came upon him three 

14 



To one — thought him protected by the gods 

And made immune to blows of mortal hands ; 

Stricken with fear lest in revengeful wrath 

They turn on him, fell on his spear and died. 

Then the others fled and Cedric's life was 

Spared. He, wand'ring aimless o'er the waste 

Scarce knowing where his footsteps led, came where 

Terraced hills sloped to a narrow harbor. 

He knew the place and knew his father had 

Been well known there and much respected for 

Fair dealing, when in trade he bought and sold; 

Not many days before, they together 

Had come down this dusty trail and returned 

With family stores. Sadly he walked on, his 

Poor heart bleeding at remembrance of those 

Happy hours now gone, when suddenly he 

Came upon the spot where they had rested 

By a spring and led their horses down; 

Here lay the branch his father's hand had used 

To urge the horses on; and half trodden 

In the mold, and scattered round, the paper 

Which he had seen his mother's loving hands 

Wrap 'round the food prepared by her for them. 

Now, for the first, he realized his loss. 

15 



upon the cold, damp bosom of the earth 
He laid his head and wept — alone! Beneath 
The bending skies and sighing boughs ; no loving 
Hand upon his brow ; no ear to hear the 
Groans that shook his iron frame; nor knew he 
How near in that dark hour the heart of Him 
Who suffered in the garden all alone 
Was bending down to his. The soul may weep 
And still the flesh demand its own: Too proud 
To eat the bread of charity, he sought 
And found employment in the mines. He worked 
With heavy heart, crushed for a time by dark 
Despair; and giving way to hunger for 
Revenge, he well-nigh fell; but when at last 
A kindly light broke thro' the gloom of his 
Black night of grief, and he could say, "Thy will 
Be done"; in him awoke nev/ life and hope 
And high resolve to make of his own life 
A memorial to them; and to strive 
To reach the measure of their highest hope. 
To this end he hoarded all his earnings? 
And with the salvage from the wreck of their 
Estate, went bravely forth, determined to 
Fulfill their wish so oft expres'd that he 

16 



Might go away to school — they named the school- 
The greatest in the northland, whence they hoped 
To see him come one day with cultured mind. 



HOMER LEE. 

Homer Lee was born and reared upon the 
Sacred ground where beacon lights were kindl'd 
On the hills, before the war that broke the 
Chains of monarchy and set this nation 
Free. His father owned ships and lands and 
Merchandise; and the son — the eldest born — 
Had never known a wish ungratified. 
Albeit, he was not puffed up, or vain, 
Or churlish by over-much indulgence. 
For he was nurtured in the Quaker faith. 
And early taught to draw the line 'twixt 
Right and wrong; and measure men by what 
They are and not by what they ha.'ve or say* 

Unlike in all respects were Cedric Vaughn 
And Homer Lee, save in those noble traits 
Of character which make men strong and brave 
And true. Homer, lighter built and younger, 

17 



But noted for his prowess—- when he met 

The tall, dark, princely stranger from the south, 

As by the power of some magnetic chain 

Was strangely drawn to him. Touched by the kind 

Demeanor of this fair-haired, happy youth, 

Cedric's heart went out to him. So, as the 

Years went by, between them grew a friendship 

Strong as that of Pythias and his friend. 



DORA LEE. 

Homer's sister, Dora Lee, rejoiced at 
Their success, or wept when disappointment 
Crossed their path. Likewise, she shared in all their 
Happy leisure hours, when sailing on the 
Bay, or riding horseback o'er the hills. And 
When their united strength their pennant saved, 
The campus rang with shouts of victory 
And plaudits for the heroes of the day. 
She wept for joy. Dora Lee loved Cedric, 
But he knew it not nor dreamed that she whose 
Faithful heart could never love but one. 
Had consecrated that one love to him. 

18 



Their college days were drawing to a close; 
And nearer came the day when these two friends 
Must each go out to meet the sterner life — 
The one to fill the place prepared for him ; 
The other, empty handed and alone. 
Their intercourse — to each a priceless boon — 
Had ne'er been marred by shadow of distrust. 
A diamond careless thrown upon the sand, 
May change the gentle current of a stream. 
And so it chanced the even current of 
Their fellowship was broken. 

LOLA VAIL. 

Lola Vaif, — 
Her father, a rich planter, owned a vast 
Estate upon the banks of that great stream 
Which gathers up the waters of the land 
And sweeps them onward to the gulf. Half way 
To that strange southern land whence Cedric came 
Was Lola born — a schoolmate, friend and guest 
Of Dora Lee, and much like her; or as she 
Would appear with three more years of summers' 
Sun to paint with ruddier glow the bloom of 

19 



Health upon her cheek, and tint with deeper 
Gold her ample braids ; in purity of 
Thought and loyalty, they also were alike. 

Lola's mother died when she was young, and 
Her father, bringing home a Creole wife, 
Unwittingly neglected her; and thought 
His duty done when he provided for 
The child a nurse — an aged Octoroon— 
A pious soul, who gave to Lola all 
The love she knew in her sweet childhood life; 
And filled the tender mind with holy thoughts 
And pure. And Lola daily gathered flowers 
And, weeping, laid them on her mother's grave. 
When she was older grown, her father took 
Her to the north, she and her faithful nurse. 
To bide until she grew to womanhood. 
Her education finished, her father 
Called her home, but she begged to tarry, yet 
A few more days and visit with her friend. 

Thus it chanced to come about that Cedric 
Vaughn and Homer Lee met sweet Lola Vail 
And loved her, each in his own way — Cedric, 

20 



With all the fervor of his sincere soul — 

And Homer worship'd her, forgetting for 

The time his own betrothed. Cedric told her 

All, she sitting by his side in shady 

Bower, upon a wooded isle, their boat drawn 

Up below upon the pebbly beach. He 

Told the story of his life, as one a 

Painful duty would perform. "She must know 

The truth." And keeping nothing back, he told 

Her of his birth and lineage — which was 

Equal to her own — his loss of home and 

Wealth; his lofty aspirations; high hopes 

Now partly realized, though penniless; 

But he was going back to that same land 

Where he had delved; and there would he employ 

The knowledge gained of placer, drift and ledge. 

And engineering, to locate and bring 

Forth rich treasure from the earth, and in a 

Few short years would he return with wealth and 

Build a costly home for her in some great 

City, — she might name the place. "Could she love 

Him? Would she wait for him?" She answered not 

By spoken word, but when she lifted her 

Fond eyes to his, he read the sweet response. 

21 



By his strong arms encircled tenderly, 
Her head upon his breast, she wept for joy; 
And speaking through her tears: "Oh, leave me not, 
But let me share your lot whatever it be — 
A palace or a cot — I would leave all 
The world, my Cedric, dear, and go with thee." 
But Cedric kindly told her of the place. 
Its roughness, the peons there; and frankly, 
But perhaps unwise, he spoke of dangers 
From the wild bandits. It was no place for 
One so sweet and gentle as his own dear 
Lola; it were better she obey her 
Father's call. That day, a week, the ship that 
He expected her to take, would leave that 
Port. It would not be long ; he would stop there 
On his way and see her father, speak to 
Him, as man to man should speak, all fair and 
honorable. The wisdom of his speech 
She saw and cheerful yielded to his will. 
With fervid kiss their pledges sealed, they sat 
In sweet converse till lengthening shadows called; 
Then spread their sail and shoreward set the prow 
Of their light craft. V/ith rosy finger tips 
She swept the strings of her guitar and sang: 

22 



"What fairy-like music steals over the sea, 
Entrancing the senses with calm melody ? 
'Tis the voice of the mermaid as she floats o'er the main, 
And mingles her notes with the gondolier's strain." 

Homer and his sister, waiting at the 
Mooring, by their merry laughter and love 
Glances, half concealed, each read their secret; 
And reading, saw the fading shadows of 
Their hope. Each concealed the pang ; and laughing, 
Teased the truants for their tardiness. Then 
Timidly the lovers made confession. 
"And we will pray," said Homer, "that to you 
Be given the fullness of all earthly 
Joy, and then the sweetest bliss of heaven." 

Lola left them; and the three in silence 
Watched her waving from the deck; and saw the 
Good ship fading in the offing vanish. 
Where bending skies come down to meet the sea ; 
Then sadly turned away — each heart, wounded 
By a shaft from Cupid's bow ; arrows from 
His quiver, unaimed, ofttimes fly amiss. 

Too high born and proud were Dora Lee 
And Homer to harbor in their minds dark 

23 



Jealousies, or thoughts unkind; but Homer 
Was disconsolate; and Dora, cheering. 
Said : "You surely will forget your grief ; and 
Going back to your first love will marry 
Her and love her evermore; for no true 
Heart can ever love but one. So it was 
Her prophecy came true. Dora loved with 
Woman's constancy; and womanlike, found 
Comfort in the secret hope (while wishing 
Naught but good for Lola Vail), the idle hope 
That she one day would marry Cedric Vaughn. 

If in the spirit world departed ones 
Can see with joy a loved one plodding on. 
And faithful to the end, achieve at last 
The worthy object sought, then there was joy 
Above when Cedric led the class and gained 
The highest meed of praise for work well done. 

Cedric saw, or tho't he saw, a shorter 
Way to competence than any of the 
Kindly offers of a place which, without 
His asking, came to him; a great law firm 
Wanted him; a professorship in that 

24 



Same college he could have; in the counting 
House and busy marts of commerce there were 
Many op'nings for one as he so well 
Endowed and popular. He declined them 
All; and yet so gracefully, with thanks, that 
They were urged upon him all the more; but 
He had fixed his mind on going back, see 
Lola on his way, then hasten on to 
Carry out his plans; for each hour improved 
Would bring them nearer to their wedding day. 

On the morn of his departure, a throng 
Of gay young friends came, bearing tokens of 
Their friendship, souvenirs of college days, 
And bidding him God,-speed upon his way. 
He keenly felt the sting of parting with 
His friends; but when he came to say good-bye 
To Homer, that was hardest of it all. 
When Dora gave the parting hand, and in 
Her large blue eyes he saw the gathering 
Tears, that tell-tale look of love she fain would 
Hide; that yearning look of hopeless love 
Like arrow pierced his soul with deep regret, 
And haunted him thro' all the coming years. 

25 



THE VOYAGE. 

With varying winds the good ship sailed thro' 
Summer sea. At times translucent clouds were 
Flung across its way like twilight mists, and 
Then anon the sun burst forth. With lowering 
Winds and listless sail they drifted dreamily 
Beneath the turquoise skies. When at night the 
Mellow moonlight made its path across the 
Waves, Cedric paced the deck impatiently; 
And in his restless dreams he saw the face 
And form of Lola; felt her soft breath on 
His cheek, her arms entwined about his neck 
In heavenly bliss. 

At some port discharging 
Freightage, the ship would often linger for 
A day, and those on board would wander thro' 
The town. Once they saw a vessel that plied 
Between that southern coast and Africa 
Unload its cargo — human souls, who had 
Been stolen from their home and brought to this 
Free country to be sold to servitude. 
The buyers, richly dressed and bedecked with 
Diamonds, stood like drovers waiting at the 

26 



Cattle pens to buy. One gentleman with 
Pistol at his belt, true type of southern 
Cavalier, took a mother from her child; 
Cedric pled with him to buy the baby 
Too. He was answered by an insult, and 
Derided for his pity for "the brat." 
Unmindful of the insult to himself. 
He persevered and gained consent to buy 
The child and place it in its mother's arms. 

Off the south-most coast they saw the isle, 
The magic isle of Bimini, where the 
Indian sages told De Leon he 
Would find the fountain of eternal youth. 
Thence onward thro' the gulf, and near that quaint 
Old Crescent City, he found his darling 
Lola. Near the city in a lovely 
Urban villa on the rich plantation 
Of her father, where the oleanders 
Bloom, and palmettos wave their fronded plumes. 
They met once more. Her father, Colonel Vail, 
Was absent; would return in one week more. 
Six days, six blissful days, from early morn 
Till eve, the lovers wandered 'mid the scenes 

27 



To her, so rich in hallowed memories. 

Sitting by her mother's grave, she told him 
How unlike the days of old she found her 
Home. Her father, with advancing age and 
Growing wealth, had changed; become more like the 
One who filled her mother's place, purse-proud and 
Haughty. He had hinted at a union 
That he desired for her, and she feared he 
Would not look with favor on her Cedric. 

Like as the vine twines with the sturdy oak 
And clings the stronger when the north wind blows. 
So she, as moved by some foreboding, clung 
To him, and begged that she might go with him 
To that far land; and coaxingly she said: 
"Who will spread the table for my Cedric? 
Or smooth his pillow? Or if mishap befall. 
Nurse him back to health? If he goes alone, 
I ne'er shall look upon his face again." 

He kissed away her tears and playfully 
Made light of her misgiving; yet he was 
Sorely tempted, and well-nigh gave way to 

28 



His desire ; but that high sense of honor, 
And solicitude for her, gave him the 
Mastery over self. And from that hour 
He never knew a thought of selfishness. 
He soothed her fears; and by words of wisdom, 
(As before) soon brought her judgment into 
Sweet accord with his. But it was agreed 
That if her father answered his request 
With scorn, or treated him unkindly, there 
Would be no angry words. That he would go 
And never ask again. When he returned. 
Would take her as his rightful own ; and then 
He held her to his breast, and laid upon 
Her lips what they both well knew might be his 
Farewell kiss. For even then they saw her 
Father's carriage coming up the drive. When 
They met and she presented her betrothed, 
Cedric recognized the man who bought the 
Slave and would have torn the infant from its 
Mother's breast. Yet, speaking calmly, told him 
Who he was, whence and why he came ; told all 
Manfully ; and the Colonel heard him thro'. 

Then, with derisive laugh, he taunted him 

29 



For his presumption: "A pauper, begging 

For a queen! Nay, nay! The one who gains my 

Daughter's hand must have a bank account or 

Property in land or slaves." The hot blood 

Rushing to his brow, he boldly answered: 

"I go, accepting these conditions, but 

Surely will return." Then, taking Lola's 

Hand, said cheerfully : " 'Till then, good-bye." With 

Tearless eyes she proudly looked upon her 

Cedric, and stood as strong and brave as he. 

THE MINES. 

When Cedric reached that country where precious 
Metals and bright gems, by nature's cunning 
Hand are tucked away and hidden in the 
Rocks or scattered in the sands, he found a 
Dusky peon — Jose Morales — whom he 
Had known and trusted, and took him with his 
Train of donkeys packed with stores; with miner's 
Pick and spade and crucible, he bravely 
Plunged into the wilderness. For many 
Long and weary days he sought among the 
Dry Lomitas, sought in vain beneath a 

30 



Tropic sun, lured on by prospects that proved 

Valueless. And when at last he found a 

Vein of quartz that sparkled with the golden 

Grains, he was compelled to leave it there, to 

Wait thro' long decades for other hands to 

Come with stamp and chemicals to crush the 

Rock and bear away the millions he had 

Found. He working, saw the months pass by, but 

Labored on with Lola ever in his 

Mind. Anon there crept before his sight 

A vision of that peaceful shore where first 

They met, — a cottage home — his Lola with 

A blue-eyed baby kneeling by her side, 

White robed, with golden curls, in attitude 

Of prayer — that evening prayer by mother taught; 

Then he saw the blessings of the simpler. 

Holy life; saw that wealth is least of all. 

One day Morales in quest of water 
Sent, returned in great excitement, crying 
"Oro grande, senor! Oro grande!" 
In a deep arroyo in the sands for 
Ages washed by floods from mountain storm, 
Jose had discovered as he said, "much 

31 



Gold." In cup-like hollows of the rocks by 
Falling waters worn away- — in yellow 
Nuggets buried in the sand — he found the 
Glittering fortune they so long had sought. 
This he changed for currency of lighter 
Weight and coin, in that old city where his 
Forbears died; then to the seaport sped, there 
Impatient waited for the ship to come 
And carry him in triumph to his bride. 

BEN RUBIDEAUX. 

The consul, seeking Cedric, told him he 
Had sent a messenger in search of him 
With letters, and gave him one from Lola, 
Requesting that the messenger be sent. 
Cedric sent Morales to intercept 
The messenger and bring the letters back. 
This the faithful fellow did, and Cedric 
Read them with dismay. Morales saw the 
Troubled look on Cedric's face and begged to 
Go with him. With his tamales, and his 
Mascal, and being Cedric's servant, he 
Was satisfied. He cared not for his share; 

32 



Would leave it all with him. Cedric, with real 
Affection, grateful for his faithfulness, 
Told him he might go and evermore abide 
With him. 

He read the letters o'er and 
O'er with sinking heart, read Lola's letters. 
Beginning at the first, he read how proud 
Of him she was when he "so grandly stood 
Before her father, with the bearing of 
A king, and faced him in his wrath;" then of 
Her sad and lonely days when he was gone; 
How her father sought by gentleness to 
Mould her to his will and bring her to forget 
The one she loved. Of the attention paid 
By Simon Blake, her father's friend and boon 
Companion, the man he wanted her to 
Wed, — a vile, besotted wretch who knew no 
God but gold ; she hated gold and wished that 
He might come back poor in all but love and 
Purity of soul, with which no other 
Riches can compare. 



33 



This man had urged his 
Suit until she had exhausted all the 
Harmless arts of womanhood to evade 
His coarse advances, praying daily that 
Her Cedric would return ; when he boldly 
Claimed her hand, she told him, "No;" he bro't her 
Father who commanded that she wed him; 
She, helpless in their hands, had pled for time — 
One more year; then, if Cedric had not come. 
Her answer they should have. One day she, in 
An arbor half hidden in the trellis. 
Had heard her father's overseer, Ben 
Rubideaux, and Simon Blake make bargain 
That for a sum the overseer would watch 
For Cedric and murder him if he should 
Come. She knew he did not fear them all, but 
For her sake, she begged him not to venture 
There. She gave a number in the city 
Where he would find a friend, a lady friend, 
Of hers. It was arranged that she should come 
For her. Then, as his lawful wife, he could 
Defend her and himself, if needs must be. 
'Twere best that he should come with pistols, armed; 
Ben Rubideaux and Blake were desperate 

34 



And wicked men. She wrote, fearing lest her 
Letters would not be received; since he left, 
She had received no word from him; she knew 
That he would write, but they had come between. 



THE WEDDING. 

This plan was not to Cedric's liking for 
He would fain have gone openly and claimed 
His bride, but for her sake he acquiesced, 
And in his servant's name he took a house, 
A lovely house, in quiet place apart. 
There Lola came, and as the light of slow 
Descending sun proclaimed the dying day. 
And zephyrs laden with the breath of bloom 
And tuneful with the song of mocking bird. 
Were wafted from the sea, then from the mission 
Came the parish priest, and in soft accents 
Of the Spanish tongue, pronounced the holy 
Words that made them one. No other witness 
Than his servant and her friend. And there thro' 
Long and dreamy, blissful days, they passed their 
Honeymoon. 

35 



Morales, with his native 
Instinct, saw that danger hovered over 
Cedric; and, unknown to him, he shadowed 
All his steps. One night a messenger in 
Haste came to the door, told Cedric that his 
Servant was in trouble, needed him; he 
Went, not knowing that his faithful Jose 
Shadowed them. When near the water front the 
Stranger fled; and from the cotton bales and 
Freightage piled upon the dock, two ruffians 
Sprang on Cedric. When the light of morning 
Dawned, the lifeless forms of Simon Blake, Ben 
Rubideaux and poor Morales were found 
Lying on the bloody dock. 

All night Lola 
Paced the floor in anguish, list'ning for the 
Footsteps that came not. Nor knew she of the 
Tragedy until she read: "Murdered! In the 
Night! Two citizens of high repute shot down! 
But not until one of the murderers 
(A bearded foreigner) was killed by them. 
The other has escaped, but the mob is 
On his track and he will soon be taken." 

36 



The paper gave a good description of 

Her husband, which she doubted not, was given 

By the man who called for him. If she should 

Speak, it would bring harm to Cedric ; he might 

Escape and come to her; so, taking hope, 

With one trusty servant she in hiding 

Waited there. Her friend had gone and no one 

Knew of her abiding place. 

The weary 
Weeks and months rolled by; she pined, and passing 
Near the gates of death, awoke to find a 
Blue-eyed baby by her side — the child of 
Cedric's dreams. The months passed by and still 
No word from Cedric came. She, yielding to 
Her grief and drooping, faded as a flower 
That withering in decadence fades away. 
The rosy seraph sent — so kindly sent — 
From heaven to be the precious idol of 
Her solitude, and his, grew strong and more 
Angelic as the passing days went by. 

When the ruffians from the darkness sprang on 
Cedric, with ready shot, the foremost fell; 

37 



But the bludgeon of the other laid him 
Low; then, as the fatal blow was falling, 
Morales coming, threw himself between; 
And in deadly combat grappled with Ben 
Rubideaux. With bowie knives they struggled, 
Each receiving fatal thrusts, nor yielded 
Until weak from loss of blood, they parting 
Fell; Morales' bowie buried in the 
Heart of Rubideaux. Cedric lay for hours, 
Unconscious; then, his strength returning, he 
Rose, and dazed, bewildered, groped along the 
Frontage, stag'ring like a drunken man; the 
Stevedores thought him one returning from a 
Night's debauch. He in the early morning, 
Came where a boat was loosening its cables 
From the wharf; and unnoticed, stumbled on 
And fell among the luggage in a swoon. 



THE MYSTIC TOKEN. 

The boat — bound for the Indies— was well out 

On the gulf before they found and lifted 

Him; nor knew they of the tragedy upon 

The dock, or that he was hunted as a 

38 



Murderer. They finding on his person 

The token of a craft which they revered, 

They cared for him and left him safely in 

An island city of the Southern Sea. 

There his brother craftsmen gathering round him, 

Nursing — raised him — raised him as one from the 

Dead. From the "Valley of the Shadows" brought 

Him forth to perfect health and vigor; but 

Alas! the silken cord that erstwhile bound 

Him to the past, was broken! Memory 

Was gone! Nor, with active mind and clear, could 

He recall the past, tell his name or whence 

He came. He strove to lift the veil and look 

Beyond the wall of night that intervened. 

That cruel blow had caused a lesion of 

The brain — a lapse of memory complete. 

As the wire that bears the hidden current 

Broken, swaying in the breeze, connecting 

Sends a gleam across the night, so at times 

Bright gleams of memory, almost taking 

Shape, would light his way; then leaving him in 

Greater darkness, would as quickly fly away. 



39 



Gradually came before his sight, as 
Dimly seen thro' nebulae, the outlines 
Of a form and face came from the misty 
Moonlight of the past. At last, came back to 
Him, that picture which had made the deepest 
Imprint on his mind — his Lola, as he 
Saw her standing by her father's side. But 
When was this? And where? And who was she? 
By exercise of all the strength of his 
Great will, her name once more came back to him. 
And then her father's ; then the city where 
They lived; and then it was borne in on him 
That she was his betrothed; that he had gone 
To that fair isle to make a home for her. 
Now, having gained the wherewithal, he could 
Go and bring her. With this thought, the flame of 
Love rekindled blazed anew, as clearly 
He remembered those six happy days of 
Love with her — what she said, his promises; 
And now — ^his hot blood leaping to the call. 
He hastened on his way. Arriving there. 
He straightway went to find her father's 
Home and claim her as he swore to do the 
Day he left her there. The Colonel met him 

40 



With a scornful smile and said: "So you have 
Come? You may have her, if you wish for such 
As she." Breaking forth in rage, he cried — ^with 
Oaths — "Go! Find her at the hospital"— he 
Told the driver where — "Go! Find her with her 
Child of shame; they are good enough for you! 
I care not if she fills a harlot's grave." 



THE STOLEN CHILD. 

Cedric, smitten almost to the death, bade 
The driver go with haste. He found her and 
She, smiling, whispered low: "My Cedric, you 
Have come to meet me. Is this heaven?" then placed 
The baby hand in his and falling back. 
She was indeed in hea.'ven* Cedric, tearless, 
For a moment stood as one struck dumb; then 
Took the baby in his arms. She too young 
To understand, or lisp her mother's name 
Or his, as though instinctively, she threw 
Her rosy arms about his neck and kissed 
Him. Then confiding, laid her golden curls 
Upon his breast. The nurses, thinking him 

41 



A base deserter, hoping he at least 

Would own the child, and seeing him caress 

It — placed tenderly its costly wrappings 

'Round, and quickly packed its ample clothing. 

Gave it him. He kissed the marble brow and 

Turning to the one who had the right to 

Speak for all, he inquired about the rites 

And ceremonies of her faith, "Were they 

Performed?" "Yes," the matron said, "the good priest 

Has been often by her side, left her just 

Before you came; the one who married her." 

He paced the hall and pondered, mystified. 
What he had heard and seen had set his brain 
Awhirl. So she was married! Then to whom? 
Her husband might at any moment come 
And claim his child — claim Lola's child — -he quick 
Resolved to take the babe and give his life 
To her — to care for her, for Lola's sake; 
For she was Lola's child, if not his own. 
They must not know that he was not the one 
Who married her. He must not see the priest. 
He, in his frenzy, cast aside all thought 
Of right or wrong — decided he would 

42 



Steal— yea, lie or even die before that 

One who had deserted her should have her 

Child. He gave them gold, and speaking calmly, 

(Falsely, too, as he supposed) said: "Tell them 

Her husband ordered that her last resting 

Place shall be a mausoleum grand, and 

To him you gave the child— -the one to whom 

It rightfully belongs; say that he loved 

Her to the last, and would that he had died; 

That she had mourned for him — not he for her." 

Then, with a farewell kiss, he took the child. 

Believing he was stealing it away. 

The baby clung to him and was content. 



But for the child his life had ended there; 
Then there had been no tie to bind, no one 
To love. The past almost a blank, and in 
The future no alluring hope, he fain 
Had snap'd the slender thread of life, to be 
With Lola evermore. Or, had he been 
One of the weaker kind, complaining at 
His fate, he had perchance by slower 
Process, ended all in low debauchery. 

43 



THE WANDERERS. 

But those confiding arms, that baby kiss 
Upon his cheek, sent thro' the aisles of his 
Great, generous heart, a flood of newborn 
Love. To part with her would be indeed to 
Part with life itself. He, thinking quickly 
And as quickly acting, fled— took the first 
Ship that sailed, nor asking whither it was 
Bound; rejoicing when it cleared the dock and 
Seaward turned its prow. When learning that its 
Course lay to the north, he changed to one bound 
For the South Sea Isles. 

Sailing to and fro. 
The changing seasons passed while they upon 
The ocean cruised like wanderers without 
A guide; he thinking only of his charge, 
And where he, in her tender years, the 
Best could care for her. Willing hands he found — 
Mothers' hands outstretched to take the cherub 
From his arms. She, growing, Cedric saw in 
Her the image of her mother — the same 
Blue eyes and wavy hair which fell about 
Her shoulders; high arching brows and lashes 

44 



Long but darker shaded, like his own. He 
Had thought to call her Lola; but when the 
Stranger asked her name, she lisping answered, 
"Zola," he left it so. 

Tho' long before 
The day when ox-carts plowed their dusty way 
Across the plains to reach the sun land slopes, 
The Eldorado of the west, he knew 
Of that fair land beside the sunset sea — 
That sunny, southern California. 
There they would go, where none would ever hear 
The story of the stolen, nameless child; 
And where the recreant father ne'er would 
Come. There would he seek and find in sylvan 
Quietude, the sweetest spot where Mother 
Nature reigns and in her lap, among the 
Birds and flowers, would she be reared in spotless 
Purity — -educated- — taught by him — 
As wise men of the olden times received 
Their learning from the doctors of the law. 

Thitherward they sailed; and thro' the rocky 
Gateways of the cape — tho' roughly shaken — 

45 



Safely passed; then to the north thro' calmer 

Waters, borne by Etesian winds, oft-times 

Delayed by traffic at the ports, or on 

A glassy sea becalmed. And once their ship 

Was overtaken by an ugly craft 

That bore the pirates' flag; and every man 

On board was called to arms ; then they w^ere 

Well nigh overwhelmed and taken. Cedric, 

Joining with the crew, fought valiantly. Thro' 

The thickest of the battle, Zola clung 

To him. When they would have taken her below, 

She cried, "Let me stay wiz papa; if he 

Go, zen me go too." Cedric answered, "Be 

It so; we live or die together." But 

Their fears were turned to great rejoicing when 

A shot crashed thro' the pirate craft. They sailed 

Av/ay and left it sinking in the deep. 

Cedric, by his bravery and coolness 
In the time of danger, won respect and 
Friendship of officers and crew. When they 
Left him at the mission of the holy 
Padres, on the bay of San Diego, 
Loaded him with costly presents, forced them 

46 



On him, presents for himself and Zola. 
The angelic child had won the hearts of all. 

Cedric told the good Franciscan fathers 
He was going northward overland, and 
Joyously he set about preparing 
For the journey, she ever at his side, 
With childish prattle, asking, "What is zis?" 
"What is zat?" and "What for?" He answering 
Cheerfully and evermore explaining — 
Teaching her. 

In her sweet companionship 
And the certainty of keeping her, he 
Laid aside his sadness and became as 
Light of heart and happy as herself. At 
Last they were all ready to begin their 
Wild and free nomadic life— a dozen 
Gentle burros, packed with all that they might 
Need for months to come; a tent with costly 
Furs and rugs, and blankets of bright colors 
Bo't from the Indians, with toys and gaudy 
Trinkets; a snow-white pony, showily 
Equip'd with Spanish bit and bridle, 

47 



Upon its back a basket, sedan-like, 
With crimson canopy, lined with softest 
Silken draperies, for his "Gypsy quean." 
A princess of the Romany was ne'er 
Provided with such luxuries as she. 

In the early morning, long before the 
Ringing of the mission bells, Zola and 
Her strange retinue set forth; the pony, 
With its precious burden, led by Cedric's 
Hand; then came the white milk goats with tinkling 
Bells; to the sound, the meek-faced burros, trained 
To follow, trailed patiently behind; and 
Then a faithful shepherd dog to keep them 
All in line. They moved by easy stages. 
Stopping often in some shady dell to 
Rest and let their burros feed upon the 
Grassy slopes. Then would Zola gather flowers. 
Or chase the yellow butterflies, with shouts 
Of childish glee that echoed thro' the glen; 
To him a sweeter music than the chime 
Of great cathedral bells or orchestra. 



48 



IN THE MOUNTAINS. 

They exploring, crossed the great Cuyamaca 
Range, traversed its broad plateaus, and thro' the 
Silence of its lofty domes and canyons; 
Then beyond, where boiling waters gurgling 
Flowed thro' Indian villages. They saw 
The waving pines upon the lofty crest 
Of Palomar; and wandering, vainly sought 
Along its base for passage leading to 
Its heights. They often reached an eminence. 
And thought they neared the goal, when overhanging 
Walls of granite turned them back. At last, by 
Persevering, came upon its table- 
Lands; and pressing forward found the place he 
Long had pictured in his mind — the sheltering 
Boughs of giant trees, the gushing fountain, 
Level plot of fertile land below, well 
Watered by the rivulets that trickled 
From the springs. Here he sowed the garden seeds 
And grain; and from the chaparral he bro't 
The antlered buck and lesser game. The sweets 
The toiling honey bee had stored away, 
Drip'd from the boles of sycamore and oak. 
They happy lived in Nature's luxury. 

49 



Lest in their quietude he might become 
Indifferent or wasteful of the time, 
He took up an ancient system which they 
Faithfully observed thro' all their years of 
Hermitage— eight hours for labor, eight for 
Rest, and eight for study and improvement 
Of his mind, and teaching Zola. 

He was 
The builder of the hidden cabin; for 
Zola it was builded, for her boudoir. 
With loving hands, he axe and auger plied, 
Without compass, square or trestle board. 
But with all the tenderness that ever 
Mother bird provided for her nestling. 
He building, furnished it with draperies- 
Bright Indian blankets, rugs and robes of 
Fur, arranging all as beautiful as 
Tho* her mother's spirit hands had guided 
His. Perchance they did. If love be spirit, 
And spirit love— or soul — then such as hers 
Might overleap the balustrades of 
Heaven and find its own; or such unselfish 
Soul as his might rise and view the palace 

50 



Of the skies. He teaching, opened first the 
Book of Nature, and strolled with her among 
The flowers and botanized. Then to the rocks; 
He told her of the slow formations of 
The ages. From the books selected in 
The days when she was cradled on the sea, 
He, in learning, carried her beyond her 
Years. 

"PEG LEG, THE MINER." 

They marked the changing moons until a 
Score had glided by and yet had seen no 
Other human face save one- — and he, an 
Honest miner whom they found in sorry 
Plight, with broken limb, where he had fallen 
From an overhanging ledge. They succored 
Him until, returned to strength, he rose with 
One limb twisted hopelessly. They made — as 
Best they could — a wooden substitute, and 
Strap'd with buckskin bandage, he soon learned to 
Use it cleverly. Jokingly, he called 
Himself "Peg-leg, the miner." He told them 
Of a mine that out upon the desert 
He had found, where three large buttes stood side by 

51 



Side. Cedric gave him burros from his herd, 

And packs, and sent him on his way. He came 

Again with well-filled sacks of pellets round 

As shot and black as ebony, which proved 

To be pure gold. He left it there, and leaving, 

Nevermore returned. Miners to this day 

In vain have sought that "Peg-leg Mine," and those 

Three buttes ; and some have left their bones to bleach 

Upon the desert sand. The miner told 

Them of a nearer passage, a hidden 

Trail, that led downward to the valley. They 

Going, tarried there and Cedric sent the 

Indians to the mission for supplies. 

Once a cougar sprang across their path with 
Blazing eyes and crouching for a spring; when 
Cedric sent a bullet thro' its brain; and 
From its den he took a pair of baby 
Mountain lions, made orphans by the shot. 
Zola, pitying, took them home and one, 
Surviving, grew to monstrous size, became 
Obedient to her command, and like 
A faithful watch dog, followed her. She 
Called him Zimbo. Other pets she had — ^white 

52 



Kids of silken fleece, birds and animals, 
But Zimbo was the monarch of them all. 



As the circling years went 'round and she could 
See beyond the golden morning of her 
Sunny life the ripening noonday coming 
On, she longed to see the world beyond her 
Mountain home; but named it not to Cedric. 
With her years she grew more fearless, wild and 
Venturesome. With Zimbo and her rifle. 
She scaled the dizzy heights of rock and crag 
Where condors built their nests, and knew the 
Devious windings of the wild doe's trail. 
Thro' manzanita groves and chaparral. 
In a seat of granite, nature fashioned. 
Like a throne, shaded by a giant oak 
Upon a summit looking oceanward. 
She would sit in dreamy mood and watch the 
Silvery line of surf that fringed the far-off 
Fading stretch of blue. Once she saw a sail 
Appear, then slowly vanish in the oiBng; 
And in the quiet of an early morn. 
She heard the low sweet chime of mission bells. 

S3 



GILBERT. 

To that same port where Cedric landed with 

His Zola, others came from distant parts. 

Some came to seek their fortunes, others came 

To buy and till the soil, some to obey 

The inborn instinct of the pioneer. 

One family, leaving all behind, had bro't 

A sickly child. Rich and prosperous they 

Had been, and with children blessed; but a dread 

Contagion had swept them all away save 

One; and he, left delicate and frail, the 

Idol of their hopes — no other left to 

Keep the family name. From those who best could 

Speak, they learned there was no hope unless it be 

In taking him to that fair, sunny clime. 

They hastened there and gave him for his home 

A quaint old hacienda of the Dons; 

With many leagues of land that lay between 

The mountains and the sea. There amid the 

Orange groves and vineyards, in the freedom 

Of the range where roamed his father's flocks and 

Herds, young Gilbert soon became a gay young 

Caballero — grew as strong and fearless 

As vaqueros of the range — could twirl the 

Lariat or aim the rifle true as they. 

54 



Sunburned, strong and handsome was Gilbert, in 
Showy costume of the Dons, with clanking 
Spurs, gold-mounted trappings on his coal-black 
Leo, ambling thro' the massive arches 
Of the mission. Senoritas smiled on 
Him; he returned their loving glances. This 
His parents seeing, feared their Angflo 
Blood be mixed with that of darker hue, besought 
Him to return to their old home and there 
To find a bride of his own faith and kind. 
He quieted their fears and said that he 
Was wedded to the mesa and the hills. 
He loved the mountains more than ever 
Bridegroom loved his bride, his heart was free; 
But kind and true and dutiful to them, 
He promised solemnly that he would do 
As they desired before he took a wife; 
For ne'er could he repay the love and care 
By them bestowed on him, their sacrifice. 

Foremost in all manly sports, he reckless 
Rode along the beach where foaming breakers 
Lashed the cliffs, fleet-footed Leo dashed between. 
His black horse was known on El Camino 

Real — far beyond the shady groves of 

55 



Monte Vista. He loved the mountains 

And on their bosom laid his head beneath 

The starlit skies, companion of their silence, 

Partaker of their rest. In midnight darkness 

Could he thread the winding Indian trail 

Across the high Cuyamacas, and often 

Had he reached the base of Palomar, and 

Longed to see beyond its frowning granite 

Walls. At last, undaunted, came nearly to 

The summit— came where a deep-walled canyon held 

Him back, there rested. The autumn sun was 

Slowly sinking to the sea and bathed the 

Mountain side in flood of rosy-tinted 

Brilliancy. 

ZOLA AND ZIMBO. 

Upon a shelving rock near 
By, a being of angelic beauty 
Stood; posed statue-like, her eyes fix't on the 
Distant sea; one hand spread gracefully 
Across her brow, the other holding back 
A monster mountain lion that crouching 
At her feet, lay watching him; a robe of 

56 



Softest fabric, yielding to the breeze, revealed 

The ample fulness of her shapely form; 

Caught back by strand of sparkling gems, a mass 

Of golden hair fell nearly to her feet. 

She unconscious of his presence, Gilbert 

Stood in speechless adoration, as one 

Entranced, — lost in wonderment. Who was this 

Personage divine? This apparition 

Come to him on that lone mountain side? Was 

She some fairy elf come to bewitch him? 

Some mountain sprite? Or angel from the throne? 

With throbbing temples, arms outstretched, as tho' 

He fain would leap the chasm that lay between. 

Pressed slowly to its edge. The lion rising 

Angrily to spring, she saw him standing 

There and vanished from his sight. Then from the 

Rocks, he heard her voice call softly, sternly: 

"Come, Zimbo, come! Come here!" The spell was 

Broken ; by those words in his own tongue 

He knew that she was of the earth — one like 

Himself — and not a native of that land. 

Day after day did he return to that 
Same spot and, waiting patient, watch for her; 

57 



Once for a moment saw her on the heights, 
And again, he saw the eyes of that great 
Lion fixed on him and knew that she was 
Near. Like knight of old he scaled the highest 
Peaks and stood upon the spot her feet had 
Pressed. With throbbing pulse and palpitating 
Heart he followed in pursuit. The kindly 
Rocks revealed no tell-tale foot prints where her 
Feet had touched them in her flight. The summer 
Wore away and autumn came again; yet 
She cunningly evaded him. Growing 
Desperate, he traversed all the length and 
Breadth of Palomar; at times he heard her 
Voice in song, heard her speak to Zimbo, she 
Near him; for a precious moment saw her, 
But in finesse she more than equalled him. 

Gilbert's parents missed his merry laugh and 
Jest ; marvelled at his absence ; feared that 
He was ill and questioned him. He told them 
He was hunting in the mountains, but he 
Mentioned not the object of his quest; misled 
Them by tales of condor's nest and mountain 
Lion he had seen. 

58 



Likewise was Cedric 
Troubled by the change he saw in Zola. 
She loved Gilbert — loved him wildly, madly. 
She had watched him when he knew it not, and 
Knew that he loved her; but frightened at the 
Thought, was minded to keep the secret 
Locked in her own breast and fly from him; so 
Timidly she asked if some day they might 
Go away, and sailing o'er the ocean 
Find another home. Cedric answered, "Yes, 
Some day." He had long expected this and 
Unknown to her, had in a way, prepared 
Her for the change. From that lone mountain top 
Letters had been sent to shops and houses 
Of the east, and yearly in return had 
Come by Indian carriers from the port 
Clothing for himself and Zola, made to 
Measure sent, and always in their study 
Hours they dressed resplendently, that she might 
Grace a drawing-room and feel at ease — not 
Show that she in wilderness was reared. 
She had mastered music and languages 
In travel needed most, and was withal 
A finished scholar. Not for himself but 

59 



Her, he feared to take her hence — knew full well 

That one so beautiful would soon be wooed, 

And he had never told her of the cloud 

That hung around her birth — the cloud of 

Mystery. As for himself, he loved her 

All the better for it — she blameless — he 

In tenderness postponed the hour; but the 

Longer left undone, he dreading knew that 

One day it must come; in honor must he 

Speak — must tell her, though it break her heart, to 

Know that he was not her father. Often 

Did he wish that in her childhood had he 

Told her all. Yet, in his weakness, promised 

Her that some day they would go: "Yes; some day.' 

Gilbert, growing wise in woodcraft and in 
The art of making love, on the farther 
Side went up the mountain, rode Leo up 
The winding trail; Zola watching, waited 
Disappointed while he — galloping o'er the 
Table-land — came on Cedric busy in 
His garden. They with kindly greeting met. 
Conversing, found each the other to his 
Liking. He too manly to dissemble, 

60 



Gilbert came out openly: The one so 

Coy and beautiful, was she his daughter? 

Cedric troubled, sternly answered: "She is mine. 

Indeed, my Zola." How learned the young man of 

Her presence on the mountain? Had he met 

Her? Had they met clandestinely? Gilbert, 

Speaking plainly, said: Tho' strangers, 

Yet they knew each other well; he long had 

Worshiped her afar; well she knew and well 

Had she evaded him. Now, at last, had 

He found the one to ask if he might meet and 

Woo her, would he give consent? Cedric saw 

His good intent, sincerity and truth, 

Looked upon him with the feeling of the 

Father for the son. Then like a phantom 

Came that secret terror of his life, — he 

Spoke unlike himself — severe, unkindly. 

"She obeys her father's will and he would 

Will that she remain unseen, unknown 

To strange intruder. The young man makes bold 

In asking." 

Answered Gilbert, manfully: 
"May not a true heart be emboldened by 

61 



The hope of winning one so beautiful? 

The asking honorable? Perchance the 

Senor has himself in days gone by made 

Like request?" Spoke of his family 

Old and honored, lived on the Gilbert rancho 

In the valley. Would he offer them rebuke 

Unwittingly? Cedric by his words the 

More determined they should never meet, for 

Zola's sake and his, resolved to flee 

With her, so spoke deceitfully. He must 

Go and wait six days and on the seventh 

Come; if she were there then he might speak with 

Her. Gilbert said respectfully: "'Tis well! 

With such a hope I well may add to my 

Long waiting one more week." And with a smile 

Of hopefulness, he rode away. Cedric 

Pitying, watched him disappear among 

The ceanothus bloom and drooping boughs. 

Zola coming, on her face the look of 
Sadness, — signs of weeping, — Cedric knowing 
Now the secret of the change in her — the 
Absence of the rippling laughter noticed 
In the months gone by — his kind heart melted 

62 



And well-nigh did he repent and tell her 
All, tell Gilbert; but the specter haunting 
Fixed his purpose; she must go or face a 
Deeper sorrow. So, despite his feeling, 
Smilingly and cheerful, told her they would 
Go and sail across the ocean — sail to 
Foreign lands. Thus seeking to beguile and 
Turn her from the tie that bound her heart to 
Palomar, spake he of the people and 
The sights that they would see. Long had they 
Remained in Nature's parlor; now going. 
Would they view the halls and palaces of 
Splendor they had read about. She smiling 
Sadly, kissed and thanked him for his kindness. 

She daily strolled where she had seen the face 
Of Gilbert, vainly waiting with the hope 
That he would come once more — pensively, with 
Tears — and prayed that she might see him once 
Again before she went away. The sun 
From out its saffron-tinted bed burst forth 
And kissed the mountain peaks. She weeping, heard 
The matin song of birds and cooing doves. 
The melody of Nature's minstrelsy — 

63 



Heard, and yet not heard, for today must she 
Decide among her treasures, which to take 
And which to leave behind. Came Zimbo and 
Her pets for breakfast from her hand, the last 
But one, for early on the morrow she 
Would go. "Shall we never come again to 
This dear spot?" she asked. Cedric feigning 
Cheerfulness, his sadness ill-concealed, — ran 
On assuringly: "Of course, we will return 
And rest from our long journey 'round the world; 
Come, bring your bric-a-brac, my girl, and we 
Will pack it snugly in the cabin, bar 
The doors and leave all safe and sound. We may 
Find Zimbo and the other pets all waiting 
When we come. Cheer up, my darling; dry your 
Tears, for wondrous sights are waiting for those 
Eyes to feast upon." Thus talking, while he 
Packed her treasures in the hidden cabin. 



THE MIDNIGHT RIDE. 

Gilbert, sleepless, counted yet the slowly 
Dragging hours — three more days, and then 
The promised one; pondered o'er the words of 

64 



That strange man on Palomar, — words so oft 

Repeated: "If she be here, then you may 

Speak with her." ''If she he here!'' Their meaning- 

His intention— dawned upon him. "She will 

Not be there!" In frantic haste he rose and 

Threw his saddle on his fastest horse and 

Sent the spurs along his quivering flanks; 

His adolescent blood in angry throbs, 

His eyes ablaze, he wildly flew across 

The mesa, through the foothills, brave Bonita 

Stag'ring, bore him up the trail. In early 

Morning came to where he spoke with Cedric. 

On the slope he saw the tethered burros, 
Well-filled packs and camping equipage near 
By. Then from the curtained maze of trailing 
Vines and boughs, he heard the gurgling waters 
Of the spring and sound of axe. Pressing thro' 
He came upon the hidden cabin, Cedric 
Placing bars before the door, and Zola 
By his side. At sight of him came bounding 
Zimbo, stop'd by Zola's voice. Then, with head 
Uncovered — bowed, as one in reverential 
Attitude before a shrine — addressed her: 

65 



"We have been acquainted long, if not by 
Spoken word, then by the cords that bind two 
Hearts as one. This man who calls you daughter. 
He may tell you of his promise — explain 
The breaking — doubting not his motive, I 
Believe him kind and true." 

''Calls you daughter!" 
Smote poor Cedric's soul; a deadly palor 
Swept across his kindly face. The time had 
Come when he must speak — must tell the secret 
Of his life — her life. Then he recited 
All that he remembered, — Zola's unknown 
Parentage; his stealing her, and fear that 
She be taken; how he had suffered with 
The dread of making known to her that he 
Was not her father. Speaking, the strong man 
Breaking, wept. Her love and true devotion 
Setting all aside, she sprang to him and 
Clinging, cried: ''He is my o<wn dear father T' 
Her dazzling beauty now intensified. 

As one enchanted, Gilbert looked upon 
The scene; such filial love revealed a depth 

66 



Of soul beyond his ken ; thought he of those 

Who called him son — what they had done for him — 

And of the promise he had made to them. 

Yes, he would die for them ; yet in their pride 

Of name and family might they not spurn 

This nameless one? Thus in the balance weighed 

His love for her was satisfied ; fortune, 

Name and family were all as naught to 

Him compared with Zola. He proudly asked 

Again to woo the hermit's daughter and 

Winning, give to her his name. 

"No, no," she 
Answered for the father, "until this cloud 
Is lifted — mystery solved — my name is 
Zola Vaughn." With her words, a light broke in 
On Gilbert. Joyously he spoke; as he 
Had promised would he go back to the states 
And seek a bride, solve the mystery and 
Return triumphant, claim her — his Zola — 
As his bride. Would take the ship now in 
The harbor, sail tomorrow. Cedric gave 
The name of Colonel Vail, but his memory 
Yielded meagerly of information 

67 



Needed. He well remembered all his life 

Up to the day that he left Lola at 

Her father's home, and from the day she died, 

The gap between in mystery wrapt, all blank. 

Gilbert, taking Cedric's hand, said: "From this 

Day your life shall be a pattern for my 

Own. God bless you." And to Zola: "You are 

Mine whate'er my journey may reveal;" and 

Unmindful of her sweet rebuke, he held 

Her to his breast and kissed her. That life-long 

Fear for her still haunting, Cedric followed 

Him aside and whispered: "The father, if 

He be found, pray name her not to him." From 

The mountain top she watched him out of sight; 

Then, alone on Palomar, the hermit's 

Daughter wept. 

When their only son went forth 
To seek a bride — to keep his vow — there was 
Great rejoicing at the Gilbert rancho. 



68 



GILBERT'S JOURNEY. 

After journey long and wearisome, he 
Reached the Crescent City and the home of 
Colonel Vail. The aged man now mellowed 
By weight of years, remorseful, mourning 
And alone, received him kindly, answered: 
"Her father's name was Simon Blake, he was 
Murdered by a Mexican upon the 
Dock. The child, my grandchild's name was Blake. 
The man who loved my daughter came and found her 
Dying. 'Twas he who took the child away. 
And they were lost at sea." Gilbert had the 
Story of her life — her name was Zola 
Blake. 

With heavy heart he homeward turned, yet 
No less loyal to his Zola. With sad 
Misgivings waited for the coming of 
The ship — long overdue — by stormy sea 
Kept back. Waiting, pondered gloomily; he 
Must go and bear the tidings that would solve 
The mystery of her name, but leave a 
Darker shadow than before. Still would she 
Refuse his name they would go away from 

69 



Palomar. They at the rancho, left so 
Happily, what would he say to them? At 
Last with tattered sail and broken, came 
The ship. He hastening, learned that it would 
Lay at anchor there yet two days more in 
Mending. Hopeless, yet with strange desire to 
Linger there, again he visited the 
Hospital where Zola's mother died; but 
As before, no voice could answer aught of 
Her; yet caught a thread of hope — an aged 
Priest in near-by parish mighi remember. 

The father heard him, — listened eagerly; 
Then in his book of records found the date 
When Lola Vail and Cedric Vaughn were wed; 
And the christening of her daughter — their child. 
Left with him for Cedric, left by Lola, 
The treasure he had brought from Mexico, 
Lola's diary, presents he had given. 
And a miniature of Cedric done by 
Her own hand; then to the house where they were 
Married and her resting place. Gilbert took 
The proof to Colonel Vail and together 
They rejoiced. He begged that he would bring his 

70 



Grandchild there when they were wed, and Cedric 
Vaughn, that he might grasp the hand of that true 
Man. Now, to Gilbert's happy heart attuned 
By hope's fruition, Nature brought a new 
Glad song. The bird notes rang with sweeter 
Melody — sunshine brighter — bluer skies- — 
Even in the tumbling troughs of ocean's 
Depth, he read the mirrored light of love and 
Joy. Thro' long and dreary days beneath a 
Tropic sun, — in calm, or fog, or buffeted 
By winds adverse, the good ship sped 'til thrg' 
The mild Pacific's purple haze, Point 
Loma came in view and then, across the 
Mesa, to the hacienda, home aga.in* 



With mysterious air, and teasing told, 
Or partly told the story. Yes; he had 
Found a fairy queen and when again the 
Great round moon came o'er the mountain top, she, 
Riding on its silvery beams, would come in 
State, — would come with him — come to the rancho. 
They must '"bide-a-wee" and trusting him, wait 
Patiently. So he left them wondering. 

71 



CONCLUSION. 

To Palomar he flew — told all that he 
Had learned— laid the proof before them — described 
The house where Cedric lived — told of the battle on 
The dock — how Morales died — the bags of 
Gold from Mexico. Thus aided, Cedric 
Woke as from a dream, remembered all; then 
Placing Zola's hand in his, withdrew to 
Be alone with sacred memories. 

Hand 
In hand the lovers blissful roved among 
The crags and overhanging boughs where she 
Had watched unseen, for him. Led him thro' the 
Brake, in forest solitudes, where lemon 
Lilies nestling grow, and clinging vines 
And nodding ceanothus plumes bedrape 
The foliage in Nature's millinery. 

With love and kisses roamed until the day 
When proudly and triumphant, Gilbert led 
Them thro' the avenues of spreading palms and 
Vine-clad arches of the hacienda. 
His mother welcomed her with tears of joy, 

72 



"Her daughter" — then met the fathers — met in 
Glad surprise — for Cedric Vaughn and Homer 
Lee stood face to face; again renewed the 
Old time bonds of love and friendship made the 
Stronger. 

Then came another presence on 
The scene. Radiant in the ripened bloom 
Of womanhood — as beautiful as in 
The happy days of old — came Dora Lee 
To welcome Cedric Vaughn and Lola's child. 

On the Gilbert rancho (named for him), in the 
Dreamy quiet of a summer eve, while 
Softly chimed the distant mission bells. 
At the hacienda, sweet Zola Vaughn 
And Gilbert Lee were wed. And when the 
Autumn came, and vine, and bough and field gave 
Forth their richest fruitage, and falling leaves 
Betokened ripeness — the sure reward 
Of patient waiting — two faithful souls were 
Joined as one. Again rang forth the silvery 
Chime of wedding bells — old mission bells — that 
Echoed from the gilded cross above its 

73 



Hoary walls, a benediction sweet as 
Incense from its altars. 

Long, long ago 
Back to the happy scenes of youth they sailed, 
And left the hidden cabin to decay. 



Up the Grade 

BY 

DAVID W. EDWARDS 

Author of 

^^Tbe Hidden Cabin,'' 
^^ Billy Birdsall^' etc. 

A strong romance, natural and 
absorbing. 

It has a special message to young 
men. 

Both young and old will find 
pleasure and profit in its pages. 

The hero is a fine type of man- 
hood. 

A healthful and helpful story with 
inspiration to human betterment. 

Illustrated, $1.50 
At all Book Stores 

W^t C-JW, Clark ^utilfetjing Companj> 

BOSTON. MASS. 



■j; 



11 w i: -^ 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



■ ! '* (3 ^ 




(fi&''^ OF COM^ 





